rain, sugar, and spice
by SoulHorse
Summary: Kirishima, who loves the rain. Bakugou, who hates it. And the feeling of warmth and taste of cinnamon. KiriBaku fluff!


**okay well I love both my boys (as my kids and hotness because _damnnnnnn_ ) and I also ship them so here we goooo**

 **disclaimer: i don't own lol**

* * *

It's one of those dark days, of clouds and rain and booming thunder in the distance.

It's those kinds of days, that Bakugou hates because it douses his fire, that fire that makes him _powerful._ It reduces him to nothing but a shivering, cold _nothing._ The rain reminds him all too much of that half and half bastard and he _hates_ it.

But Kirishima loves it. Despite his Hardening Quirk, despite that warm, bright personality that makes him, _him,_ he loves the rain. The cool drops of rain are refreshing and calming, but _oh so bold_ at the same time. It makes him fearless, unafraid of _anything_ , when really, he's terrified of _everything._ But that cold torrent of ice and water hides his insecurities, and everything he fears. The rain is emboldening and not at all something to hate. The rain was power, strength. To Kirishima, the rain was everythingeverythingeverything.

* * *

The rain was falling. Little droplets of rain; _drip drip drip._ On the little green leaves as the sky's tears, on the dull concrete as large, muddy puddles, on skin as a cold, cold kiss.

Kirishima finds himself walking with an irritated and grumpy Bakugou (as per usual; what else was new?), about to head back to the dorms after their day at school. The blonde carries a black umbrella like a cane. Kirishima's hands are stuffed in his pockets and he jabbers on about a random topic, to which his best friends responds in grunts.

They reach the door and Kirishima throws it open, welcoming the onslaught of rain.

"Ready to go?" he asks with a wide grin.

"God no. But the faster we get through this damned hurricane, the faster I can sit at the fireplace," was Bakugou's reply.

Kirishima laughs and steps out of the cover of the doorway, soaking up the coolness of _rain._ He closes his eyes and opens his arms dramatically, as if to embrace an old friend. He feels the strange sensation to do something wild, to be unpredictable.

Something hard hits him on the head and he opens his eyes to see Bakugou under the safety of his umbrella.

"Watch it Shitty Hair. You're gonna get sick," the ash blonde snaps.

The redhead only rolls his eyes. "You're such a mom friend."

Bakugou bristles indignantly and yelps as Kirishima grabs his hand.

"What the fuck—"

"Come on! Run!"

The redhead takes off, pumping his legs to run faster, farther, _farther._ He begins to laugh, laughing hard as hard as he ever did, enjoying the splash that came every time his foot hit the pavement, enjoying the rush of adrenaline as he ran through the torrent of raindrops and blistering winds. He could hear his best friend cursing and swearing every word in the dictionary and a wave of worry for his safety washes over him; what would Bakugou do to him back at the dorms?

He spares a glance back at Bakugou and the sight makes him stop abruptly (not out of fear, mostly out of awe).

Ash blonde hair drooped in the front, with some parts spiked messily in the back, windblown from the run and soaked from the rain. His umbrella was gone and his clothes were rain soaked, sticking to his body and emphasizing his unfairly muscular build. Kirishima swallows at the sight of the faint glimpse of a 4 pack. But his unfairly good looks were nothing compared to the murderous expression on Bakugou's face. His red eyes gleamed with the intent to kill.

"What. The. Fuck?!" he hisses furiously. "I'm fucking soaked as shit, you Shitty Hair For Brains!"

Kirishima finds himself unable to respond to the usual threats and insults; his best friend had always been extremely handsome, save for his glowers and glares, but especially in the downpour that he hated, he looked strikingly, _unfairly_ good-looking _(Had he always felt this way towards him?)_.

"Oi! Shitty Hair! Hair For Fucking Brains! Answer me!" Bakugou shoves him, his usual scowl on his face.

Kirishima stares. And stares. And stares. It's all he can do.

Everything else has faded out; he can only hear the beats of his heart, feel only the cold rain dripping on his skin, see only Bakugou Katsuki in front of him.

As the rain falls around them, Kirishima feels himself change, change into the person he was with the rain, change into the person he wants to _be._

He wants to be wild.

He wants to be bold.

He wants to be fearless.

He wants to be unpredictable.

He's… _free._

He has no inhibitions, only encouragement from the unfaltering downpour, as he steps closer to Bakugou. His body moves out of its own accord; an invisible string is yanking him closer, closer, _closer_ to the boy in front of him.

He's only a breath away from his best friend, can smell the faint musky scent of him, of firewood and pine and smoke.

By now, the ash blonde's red red red eyes have lost some of their anger, replaced with confusion.

"Oi Kirishima. Wake up and use your damned ears and mouth," he prods the redhead with his finger. "Talk to me, you dumb fuck."

Everything slows, comes to a halting, screeching stop. Kirishima could hear, _feel,_ the frantic pounding of his heart as he leans forward.

x

There's nothing but rain, rain rain around them. All Kirishima can feel is the soft lips against his; there's no rain, no coldness, _nothing._ There's only warmth, softness, and _Bakugou Katsuki._ The musky scent of firewood, smoke, and pine, of _Bakugou,_ invades every part of him, and all he can taste is the spice and sweet of cinnamon.

He could grow addicted to this, _all_ of this, Kirishima thinks, as he brushes his fingers against the blonde's cheek, runs his fingers through his soft, soaked hair. This was everything he wanted, the scent of Bakugou, the taste of cinnamon in his mouth, his lips—

The ash blonde breaks the kiss and suddenly, the warmth, the spice, and sweet is gonegonegone. It floods out of Kirishima's heart and into a spiraling, draining pit. A knot grows in his stomach. He can hear the rain again, and it's suddenly a bitter cold, with an added tang of fear and rejection.

Kirishima has the desperate urge to explain; he _cannot, will not_ lose this. Not Bakugou.

"Bakugou, I—"

"Shut the fuck up."

The words feel like a slap in the face and he can only stand, stunned, staring at his best friend. His head is down, and the wet hair he had _just_ run his hands through, flops down to cover his ruby eyes, making him impossible to read.

Kirishima normally was a good kid, but he knows he would _kill_ to hear Bakugou's thoughts at that moment.

The silence is deafening, save for the thunder and onslaught of raindrops hitting the pavement. But it's all white noise, dead to Kirishima. All he can see is Bakugou, and the rest of the world is grayed out. Every noise, sight, scent.

Kirishima opens his mouth again, panicking and desperate to end this _silence_ that he absolutely cannot stand, when Bakugou slams his lips against his. The redhead stumbles backwards, stunned, as the ash blonde pulls away.

"Jesus fucking Christ. Don't you know how to fucking listen, _Eijirou?"_ Bakugou grumbles. His red eyes finally meet Kirishima's, but something's changed. There's a soft, almost amused, twinkle in his eyes, and a hint of a smile (a beautiful, heart stopping _smile,_ not a smirk).

Bakugou runs a hand through his pale blonde hair, his smile changing into a half smirk that's simply _adorable_ and _endearing_ and just a little bit exasperated.

"Goddamn you. I was actually planning to fucking confess to you," Bakugou sighs. "Thanks for fucking everything up. It was going to be romantic and all that lovey-dovey shit."

Kirishima blinks, feeling stunned for the millionth time that afternoon.

"Wait, _what?"_

The other boy snickers at the redhead and flicks his forehead playfully. "God, you're so fucking dense. Everyone noticed, except you. Unbelievable."

"…"

The ash blonde can't help but sigh again. Un-fucking-believable.

"I have a crush on you, you stupid, fucking Shitty Hair."

Something breaks inside of Kirishima and all the warmth flows out, warming him from head to toes, making him lightheaded and dizzy.

He can't think, can't speak, not even a word or a noise, so he reacts in the only way possible: he pulls the boy he loves _oh so wonderfully close,_ just to taste the sweet and spicy cinnamon, to smell firewood, smoke, and pine. Again again again.

* * *

Kirishima loves the rain. It's calming, refreshing. It makes him bold and fearless and unafraid of anything in the world. It makes him everything he wants to be. The rain is good memories, the adrenaline rush of just being _fearless,_ the first move he would never have taken, if not for the touch, the kiss, of rain.

Bakugou hates the rain. It douses his fire, the fire that runs through his veins, that makes him _strong, powerful,_ that sends his adrenaline pumping. He hates the rain, because it reminds all too well of that stupid, shitty half and half bastard and the feeling of being vulnerable and _nothing._

But he hates the rain a little less now, for the rain is good memories, running through the puddles, fire and warmth in the cold, two boys kissingkissing _kissing,_ and the spicy sweet taste of cinnamon.

* * *

 **hi i'm literally in love with this story and both of my boys. i hope everyone loved this as much i did and please leave a review and favorite and follow!**

 **\- love, soul**


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